Remembrance: The Tale of the Ardat-Yakshi
by RevolvingAbyss
Summary: AU. To the few who know them, the ardat-yakshi have long been feared as the galaxy's most dangerous predators. But contrary to what many believe, some of them are as hungry for knowledge as they are for blood, and it's bestowed upon them a frightening new ability: to create progeny. Live the tale of Valithia, an ardat-yakshi who brought about a new meaning of fear for her kind.
1. Glossary

**AN: **This story will occasionally use words from a fictional language. If a word or phrase isn't immediately defined in the story, or you forget a definition, you can check any words here in the glossary. It will be updated whenever a new term is introduced. Might be a good idea to keep this open in a separate tab while you read.

I'm not well-versed on creating the pronunciation of syllables. It's not as straightforward as you might initially believe, and it often uses special characters to help signify specific sounds. So only the terms I feel aren't readily apparent will have their pronunciations spelled out to the best of my ability.

As for the rest of the terms, if you feel unsure how to pronounce them properly, private message me.

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><p><strong>Conturlina: <strong>The Remembrance.

**Dilmorvorah: **the father of all ardat-yakshi

**Gilmava: **Motherhood.

**Gilmavsha: **great mother, or matriarch.

**Ilnenava (ill-nay-nah-vuh):** to give respect towards someone, usually one you deem a superior.

**Lamforé**: Masquerade.

**Lithois (li-thoy): **an asari with facial markings.

**Pelgorae**: Birth.

**Sendulian _(sen-doo-lee-ahn)_: **the gift of becoming an ardat-yakshi.

****Thimorlak: ****an asari with alien genetics.

****Vilyor******é** Naphshaka Rento:**** The Preservation of the Ancients.

****Vilyor******é******: The Preservation.

**Vulaksha mentua yakshi: **"Embrace the demon within."


	2. Prologue

There exists an evil that has been hidden throughout the galaxy for over a millennia. The very idea of it is feared by many, yet, its existence is known only to a few. The final moments before its victims demise, is staring into the soulless voids that encompass its eyes. Your every thought, your every subconscious gesture, all controlled on its whim, leaving a hollow shell to rot. Not a shred of consciousness before the last breath is drawn.

With hushed voices throughout the galaxy, they are called monsters. In the most remote regions of space, a few call them gods. But what they all agree upon-even the creatures themselves-is that they are the most skilled predators sapient life currently knows.

They walk amongst every society in their unending hunt. Fear has long been lost to them. In the centuries of their lifespans, only a handful of individuals have ever truly been considered a threat to them.

These creatures are known by one of the most ancient tongues of their species, as ardat-yakshi. "Demon of the night winds." Their evil is as all natural and all frightening as the darkness of the night. Assassins, swift and silent like the passing wind. Each victim grants them an insatiable lust, that forever compels them towards their path of bloodshed; no redemption, no regrets, and not the slightest amount of mercy.

Born from the asari, regarded as wise, beautiful, and compassionate. The ardat-yakshi reveal their hidden propensity towards a more feral nature, complicating the galaxy's conventional wisdom of its most majestic species.

While it is common for asari to mate with other species, ardat-yakshi are born only through asari-exclusive parents. They are created through a genetic defect that is impossible to detect before maturity. By then, treatment is too late, and no cure exists.

When an asari learns it is an ardat-yakshi, it can choose between living the remainder of its life in isolated monasteries, or be immediately executed. The narcotic pulse given to an ardat-yakshi after a kill, would test even the most disciplined monk. Once they start, very little can deter them. If asari believe there's even a small chance of this occurring, they'd sooner take one life, than risk losing thousands in the future.

However, ardat-yaksi have always been unintentional results. And as the preference in asari-exclusive parents decline, so, too, do their numbers. But only the most immature ardat-yakshi live solely to kill. The most dangerous of their kind are the ones with ambition. Those seeking to unravel the mysteries of not just the reality around them, but that which makes them what they are.

In their pursuit of such answers, the ardat-yakshi have acquired a new ability. One that will make the asari regret their decision to conceal their existence, for the galaxy's ignorance will be the greatest strength of the ardat-yakshi.

The ardat-yakshi wield the power of begetting progeny. They can groom any they desire, and any who is willing, into a fellow ardat-yakshi. Soon, their numbers will cease to be endangered. And their time of living under the shadows will come to an end.

The breeder of this chaos is not spoken of lightly. And the only living soul that knows her true origin, is herself. Even those who know her closely can only guess at what exactly she's plotting, and their imaginations always reach frightening conclusions.

Very few times has she bothered to answer the inquiry of her plans. But the general message of her response is captured in a particular one she once gave: "Rest assured, the secrets of my work are only temporary. Assuming you live long enough to see it, in time, everyone will know of my plans."

This weaver of destruction, this composer of misery, this assassin of reality, is known as Valithia Naeyovos.


	3. Chapter 1

_"All ardat-yakshi must adhere to secrecy. _

_None can know their true name, place of origin, and above all, their affiliation with the Conturlina."_

**Rule 1 of the Conturlina, under Section: Lamforé  
><strong>

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><p>I was little over 200 at the time, and recently finished spending a full century training as a Huntress. I bore a darkish, violet tone with a fair complexion. An angular face, and near deep-set eyes. Like any maiden, I craved adventure, and to have it, I left my home on Thessia. My travels took me to Thiari, an asari-controlled world in the Terminus Systems.<p>

I was constantly on the move, so my most profitable source of income was selling my combat skills. Usually one contract was enough to last me for a month or two, and the jobs themselves were fairly brief. From basic security to simple assassination. Nothing I was a stranger to.

Thiari was unique primarily because the asari ruled over it. Nearly every world you find in the Terminus Systems has an abundant criminal element. Comes with the territory. The asari there were hungry capitalists. Contrary to popular opinion, they didn't see a ravaged community in need of reforming. All they saw were the thriving opportunities. In the Terminus, they could afford to embrace a far greedier nature than the public eye within Council space would ever allow. They also wrote the laws so virtually any vice you could sell was legal. Experimental technology. Notoriously banned weapons. Sensory-enhancement drugs. And much, much more.

Hired guns weren't shunned in that society. They were deeply valued, in fact; a necessary commodity for anyone looking to become successful there. With the chase of money comes competition, and it's much easier to remove it, than outsmart it. The police never arrive to dispose of assassins, but only to remove the bodies.

I was only in Thiari for a few days before I needed money. The next job I took was an assassination contract, issued against a Kynura Rasivi. Nothing more than one corporation seeking to silence the other.

I couldn't guess whether she was paranoid, or that intelligent. But our employer was finding extreme difficulty tracking her movements during personal hours. Rasivi was apparently so well hidden, that her very home remained a mystery. She only had a mock address listed in her company's files. The best chance we were to have, was at her only guaranteed location: her office tower.

We were a team of six, composed of four asari and two salarians. Large enough to survive a quick firefight, yet, small enough to maneuver in such close spaces undetected.

Rasivi had basic biometric scanners at all the main entrances, surveillance covering all doors, and a handful of armed guards patrolling the area. Nothing designed to stop trained professionals. But the details weren't adding up for me.

She managed to remain completely obscure while having a target at her back. Yet, the place her enemies would know to find her wasn't as well guarded as her income could afford. My best conclusion was simple arrogance on her part.

Her office was located on one of the uppermost floors, so we infiltrated the tower through the roof. The sun was just beginning to set and many of her employees had left, leaving less eyes to detect us.

We traveled through the air ducts and maintenance shafts to best avoid detection. Two floors until her office was when we had to move more openly. The guards lacked keen senses and were easily sniped with our silencers. Coupled with our salarian hackers, the cameras would only see looped footage.

Then we finally arrived at her door, our scanners showing she was alone inside, sitting at her desk. We had our silenced pistols loaded, and the salarians prepared to disable any biotics with their omni-tools.

The door slipped open as we rushed inside and lined up along the wall behind us. Our sights were focused perfectly on her, but her demeanor left us all confused.

She was leaning back into her chair while sipping on a mug. Her eyes slowly trailed pass each of us, and she merely smirked at the sight.

Her complexion was a tinted blue, the slender frames of her cheeks continuing to wear that mocking smile at us. She was wearing a red suit with a flap in the front, and a skirt. Her eyes began to narrow as she slowly studied us. There wasn't the slightest sudden twitch in her movements. Not a drop of sweat or a single panicked breath.

Such confidence can never be born from nothing, and every second I was expecting to be ambushed.

All of this took place within a matter of seconds. And rather than assess any future threats, one of the assassins took the shoot.

In a flash of blue light, she vanished from her chair, and the bullet cracked the window behind it. In the next second, Rasivi appeared right in front of the asari, and jabbed a serrated combat knife right into her neck, directly beneath the chin. Only the most skillfully trained eyes can hit that target where the helmets never fully protect.

Before the blood had a chance to gush through the wound, she was already rushing towards us, carrying a wide grin across her face.

We opened fire, but she only teleported again, this time along the right of the room where the two salarians were. They desperately tried aiming their omni-tools in her direction. Then, she appeared behind one of them. He attempted to turn and face her, but she gripped his wrist wielding the omni-tool, and twisted it until the bone completely snapped, causing the salarian to erupt in a shriek.

Rasivi was incredibly quick, and reacted as if her every move for that fight was predetermined. The other salarian was beginning his attack, and she instantly took the salarian in her grasp, and suspended him in front of her with her biotics. It was too late to retract, and the salarian suffered a fatal overload. The shocks crackled along every inch of his body until limbs hung helplessly in the air.

Her every movement chained together with such fluidity. We aimed as best we could, but the salarian was receiving all the shots that weren't sent into the wall behind her. Then, with the other salarian still recovering from his attack, she quickly lifted him off his feet, and shot them both through the windows. I could hear his cries echoing as he made his painfully long descent.

With only three of us left, we each spread around the room to surround her. As we opened fire, she reacted with a series of biotics dashes to dodge our every shot as she took cover behind the desk. I was at the left flank. Charging my fist, I hurled a heavy warp as powerful as I could muster over her cover. Then, she sprang up, and in the same movement, spun her body so the warp only slipped past her.

Despite my helmet concealing my face, I felt her eyes burrow into mine as she maintained that sickening grin. There was no denying her love for that fight.

Still spinning, she grabbed my body with her biotic force, and sent me crashing against the door. I could hear and feel the various parts of my armor cracking from the impact. I fell face-first into the floor, and felt a burning stab inside my brain. My every muscle ached as I struggled to regain my footing, but I found myself struggling to even see. Her attack left me more dazed than I initially realized, and it was growing more difficult to maintain consciousness.

I could still hear gunfire, and felt the vibrations from the impacts in the walls. It lasted for only a few seconds, and was soon concluded by two loud thumps. I could only see them out of the corners of my eyes, but I still managed to glimpse my allies dead on the floor.

My gun laid beside me, and I saw Rasivi above, straight ahead. She was typing something into her omni-tool, and I knew I had my chance. My jaw clamped down as I reached for my gun, taking sharp, quick breaths between the tiny gaps of my teeth. Squeezing the handle, I aligned my sights with the back of her head, but my hand refused to remain steady. I tightened every muscle in my arm and bit down on my tongue to focus. It lasted only for a moment, but long enough to fix my aim and pull the trigger.

Alas, her barriers were fortified, and absorbed all the damage. She must have projected them after attacking me. Immediately, she turned to face me as I still struggled now to even pull the trigger, let alone align my sights properly.

She strode towards me with her smile now gone. I could only muster another shot before my arm began lowering the gun, and it didn't cause her to even blink. She gazed down upon me, with a hunger in her eyes so evident, she may as well have said it aloud. I could tell I amused her, and I only wondered how she would prefer I die.

Only when my head became too weak to fully look up, did I notice the blood-stained knife she was clenching. The tip of the blade dripped the fresh blood of my allies. She raised the knife and prepared to stab me, but not before kicking the gun right from my hand. The sting pulsed through my entire limb so strongly that I barely fought back the urge to scream.

Her knife came close to my head, and instinctively, I placed my palm in its path as it ran right through my armor and pierced my skin. That time, I could not prevent it. I released an agonizing yell as she kept the blade stuck within my hand.

Determined to fight with whatever strength I could find, I summoned all my biotic power into my other hand. Unfortunately, I could only muster a faint aura around it. And wasting no time at all, Rasivi stabbed her heel into my hand. Then, still holding her knife in my other hand, she gathered some biotic strength into her arm, and plunged the knife and my hand with it, into the ground. Again I screamed, and again my body drifted further towards losing consciousness. My heart raced faster than ever before, and I felt my pulse beating against the inside of my skin.

I met her gaze once again. She had me completely pinned and my eyes barely stayed open. She leaned in and removed my helmet, tossing it aside. My teeth still clenched until they were ready to snap, and my eyes burning with fury, I glared at her. It was the only form of attack I felt I had left. I glared into that gaze, telling her I refused to die like another helpless victim. I would not relent, I would not beg, and I would never show weakness.

Again she leaned in until our faces were mere inches apart. She whispered, "We're not true enemies, you and I."

My face froze in shock. Not from fear, but amazement. I expected her to taunt me or wait until I begged for mercy. Instead, she approached me with what felt like reason.

"If I leave you here, you'll die within the hour." Then, there was that faint smile again. "You don't wish to die here, not this way for a fight that's not even your own. So I ask you, young maiden, do you wish to _truly _live?"

Truly live... She was indirectly calling to some desire deep within me. Her words resonated with something I couldn't quite identify. Understandable in my condition, but even then, I failed to sense any dishonesty in her words.

"This is not an offer of salvation. This is purely an opportunity, nothing more. Your current life has led you here: dying for a mere contract. You can make a far superior life than this. Only make the choice, and I'll bring you with me."

Despite how much I would have preferred to deny it all, she was correct. I didn't want my life to end in such a depressing way. Soon, I'd be no different than the many nameless guards I've had to kill in my line of work. I was angry for her being right, but I also felt resentment towards my own decisions. What could I have done instead? What _should _I have done? I was slowly losing the mental capacity to even forge these questions. The answers-if they were ever present at all-only slipped into the silent recesses of my mind.

Regardless of it all, if there was a chance to correct the mistake of where I currently was, I wanted it. Rasivi was not offering me pity. It was an "opportunity." I could only guess at the time why she made the offer. But I wanted what she promised more than I cared to question why.

My eyes sunk to a close and my head rested on the floor. With my last breath, I murmured, "Yes..."

She carressed my cheeks and gently lifted my head, bringing it closer to her lips as she began whispering, "Remember, whatever your new life may bring, this was your choice and yours alone."


	4. Chapter 2

_"The Sendulian can only be granted to maidens. _

_The progenitor must be a member of the Conturlina for at least a full century. _

_Any and all children born outside these conditions are considered ill-begotten. _

_They, along with the progenitors, will be immediately executed."_

**Rule 3 of the Conturlina, under Section: **Gilmava**.**

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><p>The night I met Rasivi had to be the most significant event in my life up to that point, even if I wasn't initially aware of it. She offered me a "new life." But at the time, I hadn't the faintest idea what exactly she meant. It could have been nearly anything, yet, I accepted her offer anyway. Not out of fear, but ambition. I wanted something greater than I was, and I could only see it through her.<p>

Any other person would have likely declined, as they had every reason to. To understand the life that drove me to wander the galaxy, is to understand why Rasivi's offer was so compelling. On the brink of death, and staring into an unknown future, I went with Rasivi not to save who I was, but rather... replace it. It's a debilitating truth when you realize your life is void of contentment. I had known it for years, even as I roamed the many worlds beyond Thessia. It wasn't until my life after meeting Rasivi, did I truly feel like I made a worthwhile decision; a choice that really affected my life in the way it needed.

Before all of this, I was living on Thessia as I had my entire life. I lived with my mother, and I never knew my other parent. Single mothers are common, even if both parents are asari like mine were.

Mother was a tall, proud, and intelligent person. She had a habit of preferring silence; she avoided speaking her opinion, even when provoked. The few times she did, you could tell she was clearly hiding something behind a smile. If not that, then her words would be so bold and honest, you found yourself wishing she never spoke at all. All my life, I felt there was something my mother never quite controlled, and it isolated her.

Rare was it she actually engaged with me as a child. She'd buy me toys, take me sightseeing, or simply watch me play. But we didn't have much personal interaction. She was there enough for my young mind to remember her being there. But not enough to where I felt like she was the center of my world, as many children often do.

I never remembered any friends. She had colleagues to briefly chat with, but no one she ever brought home or visited. Add to that, I can never remember a single time when she smiled, and I didn't feel a sense of confusion. As I matured, this was soon replaced by suspicion.

It was a pattern with her. Whenever you asked a question that could possibly yield an uncomfortable answer, she'd smile and pretend ignorance, or that she didn't truly care.

This was persistent every time I asked about her mate, and why she was never home. When I was younger, she would place her hands on my small shoulders, looking down with that huge smile. Then she'd say something like, "I don't know where she is. But I'm sure she'd be here if she could." Then when I was older, her responses shifted towards the lines of, "I can't tell you," and, "She's just not here."

Even as a child, society ensures you understand the "mistake" of being born pureblood. You walk through life, and people stare for far too long. Others refuse to catch your gaze. And the rest pretend they don't notice your presence. I noticed how this affected my mother. I'd hold her hand as we took our daily walks through town, and I'd see regular faces, faces that knew her. The way they looked, and the way they _refused _to look. Mother simply kept staring straight ahead, her face failing to reveal the slightest expression. But whenever I tugged her arm and asked what was wrong, she merely gave me that smile. Who was she trying to be strong for? I couldn't tell.

The adults, however, were passive compared to the children. They made no efforts to conceal their contempt. I saw them as nothing more than dolls; tools made in their parents' image, teaching them mindless hatred before they were old enough to comprehend the depths of such an emotion.

Their insults varied from "freak," "monster," "that _thing_," and everything in-between. Mother couldn't protect me from them and she knew it. For hours, I'd have to suffer their glares and cruel laughs. Everyone refusing to play with me. How they'd point and laugh whenever my eyes started to tear up. Many times I'd come home to Mother, crying like a newborn.

I remember the first time I asked my mother a question that really seemed to upset her a bit. I could tell, because unlike the questions about her mate, she didn't respond with that same warm smile.

Mother had just brought me home from school, and I cried the entire drive. I didn't even wait until we went in the house. The second we stepped out of the car, I ran towards her, and buried my face into her stomach, sobbing again. I asked her, "What is a... pureblood? How do I stop being one? Everyone hates me because of it!"

I looked up at her through my tears, and she didn't even hold me. She didn't even look at me.

"It's just what you are," she said. "And you can't change that. Only how it changes _you_. Just like it changes the other children to where they tease you. And how it affects you now, and makes you cry." She knelt down, and stared into my eyes with such a sternness in them. "It will never be easy. Only, try not to show your pain. Then maybe one day—and it may be a long time from now—your face will reflect your heart."

There was that boldness, that honesty. It was then that I started to understand what mother was doing all this time. When people would look at her with contempt, and she'd continue to wear that expressionless face. There was something that she couldn't change about herself that she was struggling against. But I had yet to learn the specifics.

Some parents might say my mother was cruel for exposing me to such a harsh truth so early. In retrospect, though, I was grateful for the advice. I couldn't prevent the suffering I'd endure for being a pureblood. But at least I wouldn't walk that inevitable path for many more years of my childhood, ignorant and afraid. I only hoped that one day, I'd feel as strong on the inside, as I pretended to be on the surface

This change was far from overnight. I had to familiarize myself with people. Their mannerisms, their gestures, their tells; everything that would teach me how to adapt my false personality, until it one day became a real one.

As I became a teenager, I started learning about sex. I understood completely why people hated purebloods, and why they would forever hate me for a choice that was never my own.

At first, I tried imitating my mother. If I wasn't expressionless, I was smiling to throw you off guard, to make you believe your words never pierced me. I learned this only worked on the very gullible. Like children, in my case. Experience taught Mother how effective that would be, which is why she used it with me all those years. But for everyone else dead-set in their insulting ways, a smile doesn't fool them, it only provokes. If they don't see it as a sign of mockery, they feel defeated because they didn't break you, so they try even harder.

This was a turning point in my life for several reasons, not just learning about purebloods. I had learned what kind of mask to wear across my face. Where my mother chose smiles, I simply chose glares, but subtle ones. Whenever I looked at someone, inside I'd be whispering, "Beware," "monster," dangerous," and emanate this aura as best I could to affect the very atmosphere. I carried a warning within me, and behind the uppermost layer of my eyes. Perhaps people weren't aware of it, but when they looked into my gaze, they felt there was nothing pleasant waiting behind an interaction with me. It steered away many who sought to worsen my life, even if it was just by looking at me wrong. Of course, it didn't deter everyone, and that's when my violence was born.

I got into fights every time someone provoked me. I knew words would never work as they gave up reason long ago. So when a group thought they could point and laugh at the pureblood, I charged straight in and unleashed a barrage of punches. I kept at it. Even as the blood drenched my hands and splashed into my eyes. Even as I felt the many kicks and jabs throughout my body. Even after my knuckles were sore and ready to break on impact. I just kept fighting.

All the frustration inside me, all the despair I kept hidden, it fueled me beyond lengths I was even aware of. I didn't want to fight. But there was a lingering satisfaction every time I did. I defied the helpless pureblood in their preconceptions, and I won.

More than once, my mother had to come get me from a holding cell. It happened so much, that I was warned keeping up my "reckless behavior" would place me in prison.

My mother wasn't much of a scolder. She never waved her finger and told me how wrong I was. That's not to say she approved my actions, either. She was just... passive, really. I couldn't go anywhere besides school, I was disallowed buying any gifts for myself, small things like that. Nothing that deterred me. Fortunately for my criminal record, word travels and people understood the danger of antagonizing me.

The fights certainly strengthened me. I felt like I _chose _to wear my mask, not just need to. And every time I asserted my independence, I felt just a little bit stronger than before.

The other reason why my teenage years were so important have to do with my mother. This was the time my sister was born, and she changed everything in more ways than she ever knew.

When I arrived home from school one day, my mother informed me of her pregnancy, and how she'd have to take maternity leave soon. She'd been pregnant for some time, but not long enough for it to show. She waited until she would need more help around the house to tell me.

There wasn't excitement or joy in her voice when she told me. She remained calm and deliberate with her every word, as she just sat and looked at me, her hand caressing her stomach.

A few gene clinics have aliens that volunteer to father asari children. The asari meet with the donors, meld to acquire the genetic material, and then they go their separate ways. These one-time encounters are the reason single mothers are common. Most people do it so their children will gain the best that alien's genetic history has to offer. And because aliens are short-lived, it's just easier on the people and the children, if they simply leave after the meeting.

It was from there that Mother acquired a child, saying she chose a salarian for the obvious benefits of intelligence. I didn't respect her choice, but I can't say I immediately rejected it either.

I felt it was a mistake to raise another child that would never know both its parents. Truth be told, I never liked the idea of anyone simply meeting an alien only once, then running off with the child. It's possible I was being too emotional. I knew nothing of the importance of romance. The concept rarely visited my mind. Soon enough, my inner protests disappeared. Mother would have a child, and I would be an older sister.

Part of me was happy for my sister. She wouldn't have to live life as a pureblood. And society would instead judge her personality, and not the mate her mother chose. Salarian was a wise decision, nonetheless. People respect them more than other species. It's a competition between them and turians. Other species are regarded as inferior, even if the specific word isn't spoken, like the batarians or the elcor.

I wasn't much of an example for my younger sister. I spent many days sleeping through school. The only real classes I gave my attention to were ones on biotics, and that was so I could fight better. It's not as thorough as military training, but you learn enough basics to hone the skills on your own.

Aside from that, my nights belonged to the clubs and bars alike. I'd dance at the command of every beat. My mind would go dizzy from a bottle of cheap liquor. I was expressive, and I was in control, showing people who I was. Some were attracted to such bold confidence, and it led to many trysts. My nights would end in sweat, passion, and headaches. It was my life, and it was satisfying, if only temporarily.

Growing older, I became increasingly suspicious of Mother. Why was she so emotionally distant, even with her own daughter? I had always dismissed it as being none of my business. That stopped after my sister was born.

Her childhood resembled nothing like my own, and again, I was happy for her. The one changing element I could not accept, was Mother. For the first time, she wore a smile that wasn't masking any emotions. She'd look into the innocent, young face of my sister, and smile the biggest grin. I didn't sense she was trying to hide anything, and that she was happy.

But why should she have hidden anything from her? That was what started unraveling things for me; when I would start asking questions I knew I could never come back from.

Why didn't Mother trust me to know what happened to her mate? Who was she protecting by remaining silent? Why—seemingly at random—did she decide to have another child? And why was she openly expressing such happiness around her?

I knew the answer to the last one. I literally bit my tongue so I wouldn't have to hear myself say it aloud. My sister wasn't a pureblood. She was socially accepted, and consequently, so was my mother.

I began imagining many explanations for the absence of my other parent. I concluded it wasn't an untimely death. You don't remain silent about the ones you love. And if you're that distraught, you don't remain so..stable. The absence had to have been her own choice. And how many reasons does one abandon a family?

My sister was nearing maturity when I confronted my mother. I didn't finish school and had no intention to, so it's not as if I gave her many reasons to be proud of me. We failed to admit it, but the emotional gap between us—the gap that _she_ forged—was painfully increasing with each passing year. I didn't much care what her explanation would be, I just needed to hear it.

"Did your mate leave you because she was ashamed of begetting a pureblood?" I quickly followed with, "And is that why you needed a child from an alien? To get it right this time? So people would stop judging you? Tell me the truth, because I won't leave until I hear it."

With her back to me, she stood in silence for what felt like hours. I refused to move the slightest bit until she answered my questions. My pulse sped up from the tension, but it was too late to retract my words, and we knew it.

"...would telling you bring her back to us? Would it change the way people have treated us all these years?" Her eyes met mine, and there they were again: the boldness, the honesty, the unnerving conviction. "Why do you really want to know?"

"Just. Answer. The question."

"...hmpf. Fine. I always suspected you'd demand some explanations one day. Yes, my mate and I were very much in love, and we decided to have a child. But you never understand the consequences of such a decision, until after you've made it. We became pariahs, and my mate was weaker than she expected. Not long after your birth, she left a message saying, 'I'm sorry,' and left. Was it fear of her own weakness that drove her away? Or was it shame? I've asked this question too many times, and eventually I stopped trying. She's not here, and doesn't want to be. But I still am. And I—"

"Bullshit! I half-expected she left because she couldn't handle the way people treated her. You're right in that her absence doesn't matter in the end. But you claim that you've been here for me?"

"And just why have I not, then?"

"I told you, you treat her differently than me. You're happier with your proper child. You think I didn't notice? Or have you yet to realize it yourself?"

She sighed. "I owed you an explanation about my mate, and I gave it." She looked away. "I don't know owe you an explanation to this question, so I won't."

I scoffed at her. "So is this denial? You're going to pretend it's all insignificant like I was a kid? I'm not an idiot. I _know _you feel more... _accepted_ around her than you ever did with me. I suppose your motherly love has its preferences, doesn't it?"

She began clenching her fists."You don't have the first idea about what you're saying."

"Don't I? Where else did you get the idea to suddenly have another kid, hmm? In memory of your deserting lover? Stop fooling yourself."

"I'm fooling myself?" She looked at me again. "What answer are you exactly looking for? Do you want me to admit something? To explain away your own problems?"

"And just what is that suppose to mean?"

"I can't speak for my mate. But I don't regret having you as a child. Not for a second. But no one, not even the Goddess herself, can change the fact that people will never accept you, knowing what you are. If I could make things right, I would. But I can't. I simply can't."

"Tch. ...so then... so that's why... that's why you had her, isn't it? To know what it feels like to blend in, knowing you could never have it with me? Is that what she is to you? Forgive me if I don't believe this explanation of yours."

She shook her head. "You're only partially right. But the answer is not what you had hoped. Yes, I did have your sister so she could better fit into society. I wanted to give her the happy life I failed to provide you."

"What? What do you mean 'failed'?"

"I'm sorry, dear. I blame myself everyday for why my mate left. Me, who insisted on having a child, knowing the obstacles we'd face. I wasn't strong enough for her when we made that choice, and so, she fled. Just as I wasn't strong enough for you, and how you've been slipping away all these years. I'm weak, and it pains me that I haven't been able to change that. Yes, I was trying to fix a mistake when I had your sister. But the mistake was me, not you. I thought if I had a daughter with an alien father, without all the harsh judgements, it would be easier for me to be a proper mother. " Her eyes started to form tears. "I failed you. Nothing will ever change that. And I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

She shut her eyes and turned her head from me, and the tears continued rolling down her cheeks. "I can't ask you to forgive me. I won't. I don't even want you to understand; how someone like me could be called your mother. Just... please know, without a trace of doubt in your heart, that this wasn't your fault."

I panicked. My chest whelmed up, and my eyes ready to burst with tears, I just panicked. I turned and ran for the door. I ran and ran so fast that every passing object was a blur to me. I couldn't be in that house for another second, knowing she'd be there. She should have been angry. She should have said I was a waste of life and that she regretted ever having me. Then I'd tell her I was stronger than all of that and I didn't need her. But she didn't. And I was too unprepared for the truth I had so desperately sought. When I finally had it, nothing made sense. Not me, not my mother, not anything.

For the first time in years, I felt weak again. Vulnerable. Like that poor child crying for hours, wishing the pain would leave forever. I can't remember much about where I was running, except the feelings I had. The burning in my soles as they refused to stop going. The tears pouring profusely as my eyes reddened and began to sting. And the sickness in my stomach from all these emotions ready to burst my insides. All I really remember was the pain I felt, and how hard I ran to try and escape it, knowing I would fail.

When I finally stopped, the night had fallen. My mask was gone, and I couldn't dare walk the streets as I was. Just the slightest glance at my weakened state, and I felt ready to fall to pieces. So I hid in a small alley, away from the public eye, concealed in darkness. The ground was cold, and the air was damp. I hugged my legs against my chest, and burrowed my face into them, sobbing. Why was I so weak? Why did those tears continue falling? I didn't know, and the ignorance only worsened my pain.

You never feel more alone, than when your only company is your own despair. It's what kept me awake that entire night as I sat there. Too weak to move. Too weak to care.

Jobless, and too ashamed to return to the only home I ever knew, I didn't last long on the streets. I never graduated and I was still very young, so finding employment would be extremely difficult. After a few days of wandering around on a painfully empty stomach, I reviewed what little options I had left. I could try my luck at shelters and see how long that would last me. I could try stripping for quick money like many young girls do. Or I could join the military and train to become a Huntress.

I only saw myself struggling for a long time if I tried the shelters, while searching for a job that would barely provide. And I still had too much self-respect to give myself away to stripping. No one is ever better for that experience. And while I was never exceptional at listening to orders, I thought the military would at least provide some worthwhile skills in the future. I knew they'd take me in almost immediately. So I went with that option, and trained for a little over a century.

Things were a bit uneventful there. No one knew my history, so there weren't any preconceptions for others to have. We trained mostly in guerrilla-style tactics and assassination. How to be swift, elegant, and precise. I was no stranger to training, so part of me felt right at home. But I wasn't interested in making friends and new relationships. Hardly anyone was, really. People in my case, those looking for opportunities, were in the minority. Volunteers mostly consisted of those looking to become civil servants. As such, there was always a disciplined mentality carried by your average soldier. When it came to masking feelings, they didn't teach me much more than what I already knew.

So, again, military life was relatively uneventful. I didn't fight in a war, nor participate in special operations. I did the bare minimum to get by, and nothing more. By the time I had my full, I had enough skills to sustain me beyond Thessia. I spent roughly a month or two sightseeing before I decided it was time to travel the galaxy.

Life among the stars reminded me of my adolescent years. But as I said, the fulfillment it gave me by night's end was only temporary. Eventually, it takes twice as many shots of liquor to numb your mind. Chatting with strangers in clubs begins to sound like prattle. And when you take someone to your bed, you realize you've longed stopped smiling. No matter what the case, you just can't feel anything anymore. The initial rush—whatever spell it had over you—is gone. And it can never grant you that sense of fulfillment.

In essence, that's what I was chasing as I went from world to world. It was never even close to enough. But what else was I going to do with my life? So I traveled. And my travels landed me on Thiari, dying at Rasivi's feet.

Was I trying to save my life that night? Never. It had long lost its value. Thanks to my chance encounter with Rasivi, both who I was, and _what _I was, were about to be replaced with something more. Whether it would serve me could only be known in time.

So I accepted Rasivi's offer. And she introduced me to a world that gave new meaning to life and death.


	5. Chapter 3

_"The Sendulian must never be granted to asari tainted by thimorlak. _

_Doing so poisons the purity of their genetic line, and the Conturlina they represent."_

**Rule 2 of the Conturlina, under Section: ****Gilmava******

* * *

><p>I awoke inside a hospital room, covered in stainless white sheets, and plastic over my pillows. The midday sun poured through the half-open blinds, and I was greeted by the pungent scent of raw chemicals. I was wearing a simple hospital gown, and various parts of my body were covered in bandages, most notably my hand.<p>

Remembering the agonizing pain I felt during that fight, it was surprisingly easy to move by comparison. I must have been given something to null the pain. But even still, my limbs continued to ache.

This was all before the arrival of humans and their Sirta Foundation. Omni-Gel had yet to be invented, and so, we lacked the technology to accelerate healing for serious injuries very well. I'd never suffered as much damage in combat as I had that night. I knew it would take at least a week or more for my wounds to fully recover.

No one was in my room when I first woke up. I expected to find Rasivi, knowing she must have brought me there. But then I noticed a message left on my omni-tool. It was from her.

_"Naeyovos, _

_You'll forgive the intrusion. I needed your contact information to keep track of you. For now, I want you to rest. The medical expenses have been taken care of, so don't worry. Once you're fully recovered, I'll message you with further details. We'll meet again soon enough.  
><em>

_ K. Rasivi"_

Until then, I was confined to the hospital. The doctors informed me I didn't suffer any lasting damage. Although, doctors on crime-ridden worlds like Thiari are some of the best for trauma care. Hired guns frequent them all the time. If they were incompetent at their jobs, the world wouldn't be a long-term investment.

I finally had time to reflect on what happened, and most notably, Rasivi; her plans, her motives, and a myriad of other things. I tried remembering her dossier for the contract. It showed her as nothing more than a simple businesswoman. But I knew she couldn't be entirely innocent. Rarely is any employer in a place like Thiari. Add to that, they make a habit of leaving people in the dark about who they really are. Partly to prevent the very thing I was hired for.

I suspected Rasivi had to be using an alias. Thinking back, the intelligence gathering on her was poor, to say the least. Her dossier mentioned nothing of combat training, and we were vastly unprepared. Remembering her swift biotic dashes and skills in CQC, she must have been trained as a Huntress. What was interesting is she clearly didn't consider us a threat. It's why she made no attempt to run, nor did she even draw a gun upon our arrival. I had many questions on what she was plotting, but her actions there were the most curious.

Had she taken the proper precautions, the assassins sent after her would have been far more prepared. Either the latter kills the former and vice versa, or I would have been replaced by a more qualified individual. No matter the scenario, we likely wouldn't have had the chance for her to make the offer she did.

My questions raised along with my confusion. Knowing I was due for at least _some _answers in the near future, though, I put it from my mind.

Until then, I focused on myself. For days I lied in bed, watching the sun rise and set through that small window. I wondered what it would have felt like if Rasivi killed me, or what I would have thought. At the time, my main focus was simply fighting back the pain. I wasn't exactly reflecting on my past decisions. But if I had died that night, what would my life have amounted to?

I never did anything I was particularly proud of. My life's motive seemed to be just enjoying the present day, however I might accomplish that. The bars, the clubs, and the occasional assassinations. A constant cycle, yet somehow, you expect it to bring about some form of fulfillment it failed to deliver before. You know how it turns out, but you keep going back because what else will you do? I was chasing fulfillment in all the wrong places. Likely because I didn't know where to look.

Then I thought about my "family," if I could even call it that. Did Mother ever bother to look for me when I left, or did she simply let me go? Did she change at all, or merely return to her old self?

And then my sister. I was to her like Mother was to me. I was physically there when I cared enough to be, but my compassion never was. I rarely took her places or bought any gifts. The times I did were when Mother told me, or during holidays. Mother seemed to have those things taken care of for the most part. I figured she was better off without her tainted sister compromising her happiness. If it became too widely known she had a pureblood sister, one day she'd ask me how to handle the harsh judgements she'd receive. I wouldn't have the first idea what to tell her. And the thought of failing her in such a way terrified me.

Keeping my own distance was "better." But the proper word was "easier." I resembled Mother almost identically in regards to guardianship. Another reason why she must have felt so ashamed. Regardless, though, the damage couldn't be undone. Asari may have long lifespans, but there are some things that require too much time, even for us. Investing all that energy and sacrifice into repairing our relationship, on the hopes it might one day work... That didn't seem plausible to me, or worth another second of thought.

Questions of my family invaded my mind for a short while. Was it pure curiosity, or boredom that brought them about? I didn't feel such an earnest desire to learn the answers to these questions. Maybe it was just _idle _curiosity. Nonetheless, knowing wouldn't have changed anything. Just like it didn't change Mother's mate being gone, like she said. I had no plans of returning to Thessia. Whatever my family was doing, I wasn't going to change it.

Within a couple weeks, my injuries finally healed. The first thing I did was message Rasivi about my status. Shortly after, she responded with a message saying to meet her at a hotel, and I could ask all my questions there. Although, despite the unlikeliness of it, she insisted I watch for any tails, just in case.

That would certainly be one of my first questions. Such a careful woman, but such a tactless decision when I first encountered her. Although, it was highly possible it was nothing more than my employer's shortcomings. Underestimation. Lack of intelligence. Or perhaps we were merely sent to test Rasivi's security, before they decided to spend money on more expensive hires. After all, you always pay _after _the job's completion, so maybe we were never expected to succeed. I've heard of such one-way deals before, but have never been on the receiving end of them. Either way, I'd soon get my answers from Rasivi.

When I left the hospital, Rasivi had some fresh clothes waiting for me. A solid back shirt, and navy pants. Incredibly dull, even for my undemanding standards. Perhaps she chose it to not arouse suspicion in the crowd. She also left me some credits for the cab fare. I called one at the hospital, and it arrived momentarily.

Within minutes, I arrived at the hotel. It was a tower, with its windows shining in a brilliant, golden light. One glance told me the place was incredibly expensive, leading me to guess just how successful a businesswoman Rasivi truly was.

I entered the lobby, and was surprised by its luxury. The smooth, floral rugs across every inch of the floor. Crystal chandeliers adorning the space above. I had never set foot inside such a place before. There weren't many people inside the lobby aside from the employees.

I went to the receptionist. An asari younger than I was, with a darkish blue button-up shirt and a matching skirt. "Good evening," she greeted with a large smile. "May I help you?"

"Yes, um, I'm looking for a Kynura Rasivi. My name's Valithia Naeyovos."

"One moment, please," she pardoned as she turned to her computer. "Ah, yes," she said looking back at me. "Here you are, Ms. Naeyovos. Ms. Rasivi has already checked in and is expecting you. You'll find her on the 37th floor, room 309."

"Uh, thanks."

"Please use the elevators to your right," she insisted while gesturing.

Obliging, I took the elevators up to the designated floor. I felt myself becoming anxious with each passing floor, knowing I was moments away from meeting Rasivi again. Who was she exactly? Another ruthless corporate owner? A mercenary? Perhaps even a slaver? My questions resurfaced, and I guessed continuously at her plans. Assuming she intended something for me I didn't agree with, could I simply walk away?

I had no delusions she was the superior fighter. With age comes biotic prowess, and she had to be at least 500. Was she prepared to kill me if I refused whatever she offered? It's possible she would think I owed her, though I felt no such debt.

The brief time I had in the elevator to contemplate this, I realized I couldn't specifically state what I expected to get from Rasivi. There I was, wondering what she'd want from me, but what exactly did I want from her? She only stated it was an opportunity. Perhaps that was a vague enough choice of words, that I filled in the rest with my own desires.

Although, nothing was preventing me from turning around and leaving. If I had felt the risk of meeting Rasivi was simply too great, I could have left Thiari that very night. I knew nothing of her I could sell to her enemies. And I was far from well known, making it next to impossible to track me down in the vast galaxy. It's not as if she wielded an entire government at her disposal.

But I wanted to truly believe she had the means of changing my life; that she could offer something I might have never found on my own. My life decisions killed me once already, so obviously I needed a different approach. Why didn't I consider an arguably more practical one? Desperation inclines you toward opportunities in places they may not even exist.

The elevator came to a smooth halt, and the doors parted as I stepped out into the narrow hallway. I finally reached Rasivi's door and knocked a few times, patiently awaiting her response.

"Who's there?" someone called from a distance. It sounded like Rasivi.

"Kynura Rasivi? It's Valithia Naeyovos." There was a brief silence, and I called again. "Rasivi!"

Then, the door began to slide open, revealing Rasivi. She was wearing a medium blue, round neck dress with a black belt. I caught her gaze as she studied me. There was this lingering desire behind her eyes. I remembered it from the night we fought. It was that same feeling she emanated right before her offer.

She gestured with her head to come inside, so I entered as the door shut behind me. The walls of her spacious room were painted with a deep sea violet. Satiny silver sheets covered the beds. There was also a large window revealing the luminous city below.

Rasivi led me to take a seat in one of two armchairs facing a small table. "Get you anything?" she asked.

"No, I'm fine."

She took the seat across from me and crossed her legs, resting her hands in her lap. "Well," she began as her eyes trailed to the side, "I'm sure you have many questions."

"Indeed."

"First, allow me to place your mind at ease, and dispel any concerns you might have. I have no intention of harming you."

"I'm sorry?" I quickly replied.

"It's understandable to be nervous. Our bodies tend to tell more than our words. For instance: your fingers keep digging into the armrest every few seconds."

Shocked, I glanced at them to find she was right. There were even tiny indentations burrowed into it.

"Remember," she said, her eyes still looking away, "we're not enemies. If you don't wish to trust my good word, then at least know you haven't given me any reason to harm you. That's assurance enough." Her eyes gently returned to me. "Rather than answering scattered inquiries, we'll save time by me explaining my actions up until our encounter. But there is something you must understand first: yes, I spared your life because I indeed had plans for you. The specifics of which I cannot reveal unless I know you're fully committed. So I'll explain everything but that."

"But that's my most important question," I retorted.

"I have my secrets to protect, Ms. Naeyovos. If you choose to commit to my plans, you'll learn everything there is to know. Decline, then you may leave and I will not stop you."

"Just like that?"

"If I intended to force you into anything, I would never have made my offer in the first place."

"...very well. Please, explain your story."

"There isn't too much to know, actually. Your main focus must be why I killed the assassins instead of my guards. To be blunt, it was an excuse to practice my combat skills."

"You were trained as a Huntress," I interrupted. "I recognize the style anywhere."

"Very astute. Yes, I spent my fair time in the military, and the skills have served me well. However, life on Thiari doesn't warrant much violence by your own hands. At least, not while you're trying to manage a successful business. It's unwise to search for fights around here, so I instead allowed one to find me."

"Wait, this was all because you were... bored?"

She chuckled. "Anyone who knows how to kill, takes an innate joy in combat. A more accurate way of describing my decision was... I did it purely on a whim, since I could afford to.

"I learned the competency of the assassins sent after me, days before they made their attempt. As I'm sure you've suspected by now, your group was never intended to survive. You were...'dummy assassins.' However, your employer made the mistake that I wouldn't discover who hired them. By the time you were dispatched, I was already disposing of your employer. Even if you had somehow succeeded, you would have never been paid."

"Pff. Yes, I guessed that much. But that still leaves why you bothered to spare my life. Are you willing to explain that at least?"

"I admired your tenacity. Your... _resolve_ to stay alive, knowing it was futile to try. I have my own conclusions, but better to learn from the source. Why _did _you struggle so much to survive?"

"Stubbornness?" I said as I shrugged. "Maybe I couldn't kill you, but I wasn't content to die as a victim. I couldn't allow a distraught expression to be my last. That would just feel... too insulting, I suppose."

"It was pride, then?"

"Not necessarily. Perhaps... perhaps I don't fully understand myself. Why not tell me what _you _think?"

"I may be wrong, and it _is _only an assumption on my part."

"Please," I insisted.

"Alright. If I'm any to judge, you're a suffering soul. Who refuses to reveal just how much she truly is suffering, even in death. Though, it does grant an uncanny sense of resilience."

"Hmpf. And how did you reach that conclusion, exactly?"

"You can call it intuition. It's rarely wrong. And was I in assuming you weren't another typical assassin?"

"In terms of skill, I'm not exactly the best."

"I mean yourself as a person. There's a certain strength within you, even if it hasn't fully matured yet. Likely because it's being wasted, and you crave something more with your life."

"And you can change that?" I said disbelievingly.

"Is that not why you're here?"

"But what could you possibly offer that's so special?"

"Allow me to propose a different question. If you truly believe you can find what you're looking for, why stay here another second, unless you think your search ends with me?"

"I..." I sighed. "Honestly, I don't know what to think. Part of me wants to believe you more than the rest myself actually does."

"Hm. Do you remember the last thing I told you the night we met?"

"Refresh my memory."

"Whatever your new life may bring, it is your choice and yours alone. Whether you find that life through me, is up to you."

"Yet, you certainly ask a great deal of faith from me."

"It's not death you're afraid of from me, is it?"

"You already know that answer," I asserted.

"Then what? Disappointment? That should be the least of your concerns, my dear."

"How do you expect me to just belie-"

"I can promise a stronger life. A more beautiful life. One that few have ever been privileged to have. If it sounds too great to be true, then to limited beliefs, it is. But you can transcend that." She extended her hand. "Merely accept my offer, and you'll live the life you were truly meant to experience."

She silently watched my eyes, awaiting an answer. My gaze was fixed upon her hand, contemplating my options, and the potentials of her offer. I felt a strong inclination to accept. But she was right about my fear of disappointment. It was the only thing that made me hesitate.

Desperation had led me to her. And now, on the precipice of such a life-altering decision, I questioned the driving force behind it. Faith? Persuasion? Fear? It could have very well been all of these. Though, I may have just been searching for another reason to say "yes." Another reason beyond contempt for my life. And while I never said the words aloud, it brought a sense of shame. I realized, once again, that this was my life. In it, I found no sense of pride or accomplishment. And as Rasivi said, it led me to dying by her hands, for nothing more than an assassination contract.

Suddenly, I felt my body making the decision before I was even aware of it. My hand extended to hers, and for a very short moment, any fears I had dissipated. I looked into her eyes and said, "I accept your offer."

Smirking, she inclined, "Lie down on the bed."

"Why?"

"Trust me. It will only take a moment."

Obliging, I lied down, and she stood over me, watching with a slight grin. She caressed my cheek, as I felt her eyes burrow into me, still maintaining that unnerving grin.

Then, she leaned in to where her head passed mine, and whispered something I didn't understand. "Vulaksha... mentua... yakshi."

Pulling back her face, I saw her eyes were now completely black, and her biotic aura began to manifest. She held my face with both of her hands, and what I can describe next as, is nothing short of torture.

My mind recalls few details after that. Every single nerve in my body felt as if it were set aflame. It seared, it stung, and its unforgiving pain crippled my bones. But I could not move. My fingers wanted to curl into a fist, so tightly they might have pierced the very skin, but they wouldn't respond. Light vanished from my sight almost instantly, heightening my fear, not knowing what was harming me or from where.

I wasn't even sure if I was screaming. I felt absolutely no control over my body whatsoever. I remember the relentless screams inside my mind, though, not if anyone could have heard them but myself.

Was it minutes or seconds that I was suffering? I remember it only as a single moment, one filled with the most agonizing pain I would ever know. No coherent thought formed in my mind. It was overloaded by the immense pain throughout every inch of my body. I was certain I would die within any second, and I was secretly hoping for it, that it might end my suffering.

Before I knew it, the world grew silent. My screams subdued, and I felt the pain slowly drain away. But this was brought on, only by my loss of consciousness. Had the pain truly ceased? I knew not, _cared_ not. The pain finally gone, I instinctively embraced the silent darkness of my oncoming sleep.

I knew not, how long this would last. Like a dream, everything felt like a scattered series of events, in a place where your mind cannot fathom time. Soon enough, I would awaken, but never again as the same person.

As I my eyes finally began to part, they were first greeted by what felt like a blinding light, as if I had spent years within the dark. It took some time for my vision to adjust, and I soon realized I was still inside the hotel room. At the bedside was Rasivi, watching me as her hand lied on my forehead. Her expression was calm, yet, very distant.

I tried to stand up, but to no avail. Glancing at my body, I saw I was under the effects of stasis. My eyes were permitted to move, but the stasis was so thorough, that I could not speak.

"It's alright," she comforted. "It's over now. The stasis field was to keep you from hurting yourself. I'm also using my biotics on your nervous system, to stop it from sending pain signals to your brain. The pain is small enough to where I can control it now, unlike before. Your limbs are still recovering, and will adjust in a few minutes."

I saw her hand caressing my forehead, but I couldn't feel a thing.

"Very little of this will make sense to you right now, I know that. But try to relax now. I am going to fulfill my promise to you, for you've been granted something extremely valuable.

"Valithia," she whispered, "you have been reborn. You are now... ardat-yakshi."


	6. Chapter 4

_"Dilmorvorah saw the life blood, born only through the melding. _

_Upon his chosen few, Dilmorvorah severed that bond. _

_The life blood was now consumed, never to be shared again._

_And all would witness Dilmorvorah's hunger in their eyes. _

_Unto his children, he declared, 'Feast upon the world, for your hunger is unending, and its pleasures unbound.'_

_And through his taste for the life blood, was born our power." _

**Modernized translation of the Vilyoré Naphshaka Rento, Chapter: Pelgorae.**

* * *

><p>There is no such thing as an in-between stance on the ardat-yakshi. They are either a blight, or a blessing. Few consciously form their opinions between the two. Though the only ones who'd have real reason to debate, are the ardat-yakshi themselves. Are they a curse, or something to aspire towards? It's easier not to ask, and rather just accept things as they are.<p>

That night, Rasivi brought me into the world of ardat-yakshi, and the Conturlina. The full magnitude of this I was hopeless to understand. Yet at the time, it didn't matter. Or at least, not enough. I embodied the very thing my species feared more than anything. Soon enough, I'd understand why.

After I was given the Sendulian, Rasivi educated me on ardat-yakshi lore. I was certain I had never heard the name before. Reason being the large number of deaths we can bring about in a lifetime.

She told me everything there was to know. How old we were. The religions that worshiped us. What became of people when they learned they were born ardat-yakshi, and the Justicars that relentlessly hunt them. I ate every word of her stories. For it was only when I understood ardat-yakshi, could I fully "appreciate" what Rasivi had given me.

Then, she told me of the Conturlina, which was a whole other level of importance altogether. It would take time before I would learn all the rules and practices. Years before they were burned into my memory better than my own name. For that reason, Rasivi only introduced me to the very basics of what the Conturlina was, and why lone predators like the ardat-yakshi would create it.

The Conturlina is simply as it states: the Remembrance. Remembrance of the history of our kind, so that it may guide and ensure our future prosperity. But the ardat-yakshi have long been a dying breed, primarily for carelessness. They are solitary by nature, and driven by the narcotic satisfaction of killing. Isolation makes them easier targets. And their lust clouds their judgement, making it easier than it should be to track them.

Suffice it to say, many lack discipline. It's why none outside the Conturlina have ever become matriarchs. Many saw the inevitable fate that awaited them if they continued as they were. The Conturlina was formed not only as a means of a survival, but also power. Through mutual goals, and a great deal of patience, the ones who formed the Conturlina hoped they might one day surpass the already awesome power they wielded, so they may no longer remain secluded one day.

Many had no intention of ever joining the Conturlina. Many more were not competent enough to be trusted with such sensitive information. However, it wasn't until the Sendulian did their numbers begin a steady increase.

Rasivi told me it was created through centuries of studying genetics, along with countless credits funding the research. It was far from easy, and even more difficult to keep it a secret. To be entrusted with the Sendulian is the ultimate symbol of loyalty in the Conturlina. Those who wield it, are entrusted to find only those truly worthy of joining the Conturlina, and empowering it the best way possible.

But there was far more to learn than that. Life as an ardat-yakshi can never compare to life before. There are certain practices you must entertain to ensure survival. Even more if you wish to maintain proper discipline and self-respect.

Rasivi was now my maker. She would be my mother, my mentor, and my closest ally. It would fall upon her to instruct me in the proper ways of the Conturlina, and she had no intentions of failing that.

After a few days, we left Thiari. But not before Rasivi ensured her business would sustain well enough in her absence. There's a certain procedure whenever someone new is given the Sendulian. Every ardat-yakshi is assigned under the authority of a matriarch. Whenever someone breaks the rules in any way, it's the matriarch's job to see proper punishment is given.

We were on our way to report to Rasivi's matriarch. You cannot create new children and not inform your superiors, unless you're looking for a quick death. She told me it would be nothing more than a simple meeting, and we'd soon be on our way.

The matriarch told Rasivi to meet her on Omega. It was one of the last places I ever wished to step foot in, but I was told it was a necessity. Rasivi warned me that I had yet to kill as an ardat-yakshi, and the moment I would, I'd experience a powerful blood lust that would never be sated. Taming that need to kill would be far from easy, and Omega was an ideal location to begin my "training" for several reasons.

For starters, they have a high, daily casualty rate and no police reports. So any bodies I'd make wouldn't draw much attention. Secondly, we needed to create some distance between ourselves and asari territory. There's no kind of corpse like the ones left behind by ardat-yakshi. A handful is more than enough for the wrong people to catch your scent. The matriarch simply planned for the worst, and apparently felt we'd be safer in a place like Omega for the time being.

I had only heard stories about Omega, and none of them positive. It was a haven for low lives always searching for a new victim to exploit. The heart of its character failed to differ from places like Thiari. The only difference was the people there were generally too poor or apathetic to conceal their greed. The environment perfectly reflected its inhabitants: dirty, death-ridden, and merciless.

These were the images that filled my mind when we first landed. I was no stranger to unsavory characters. But I certainly never frequented such filthy areas. Half the electrical signs were shorted out. Vagrants consisting mostly of vorcha and batarians were nearly everywhere, carrying constant glares on their dirty faces. And every once in a while, I'd spot a corpse lying in its own filth. There would be people standing only a few meters away, behaving as if it wasn't there, as if it was normal. I suppose to them, it was.

We met the matriarch in an underpass, lit only by a dim, crimson light. Leaking pipes created scattered puddles, and the place reeked of dried blood and sweat. We could hear muffled foot traffic from above, but save for that, the place was both silent and isolated.

When we approached the matriarch, she wasn't entirely what I expected. Or at least, her clothes weren't. She had on a gray tank top with a black jacket and boots. I imagined something fancier, but I suppose that would have drawn too much attention in a place like Omega.

Her skin was purple, with a much darker complexion than mine. Her strong eyes burrowed into the both of us. It felt like a glare, yet, she appeared so calm. Her posture was so straight and intimidating at the same time. It reminded me a little of Rasivi when I first saw her. That confidence-that power-that allows someone to remain so relaxed, no matter the situation.

"Kynura," she greeted.

"Ilnenava, Gilmavsha," she replied while slightly nodding.

There was that strange language again, listed nowhere in my translator. Did they speak it for the purposes of secrecy or tradition? I knew not. Only guessed that in time, it would be one of the many things she'd have to teach me.

But I didn't dare ask, nor study their exchange too closely. I had to remind myself that matriarch was as Rasivi described herself: a creature that revels in death. I had no delusions the two of them could ever be called friends. I may not have known much about the Conturlina then, but I still knew people's mannerisms.

This matriarch made no attempts to mask her arrogant aura. She spoke, and even _breathed_, so steadily and calmly with an utmost certainty. Certain that no one who crossed her path could ever endanger her. Could threaten her.

In her eyes—those distant, studious eyes—Rasivi and I were insignificant. I knew this look, and I vehemently despised it. But I remembered my mask, and I bit my tongue. I was just a lowly stranger to her. At least, that's what my face would say.

"This is my child," she said gesturing towards me, "Valithia Naeyovos."

Her head slowly turned to me, before returning to Rasivi. "Why did you choose someone so old, Kynura?"

"She is unique, Gilmavsha. I sensed the ambition she wields, and her heart yearns strongly for power. She will serve us well."

"She will be difficult," she retorted. "I need not remind you the consequences of failure."

Lowering her head, she replied, "Yes, Gilmavsha."

"And what of your other child?"

My eyes widened in surprise, as I watched Rasivi for her answer.

"She will arrive within the day. Her location was much further than ours, and I did not wish to keep you waiting."

"Hmm. Very well. Miss..._Naeyovos_."

"Yes?"

"Your maker has taken a great risk granting you the Sendulian. While I do not agree with her decision, I will respect it for the time being. You will remain here for a minimum of one year, while she instructs you in the ways of the Lamforé. Kynura."

"Gilmavsha," she answered, her head slightly lowered again.

"It goes without saying, but I'll reinforce its importance, nonetheless. Do _not _dishonor the Conturlina with this child. You may not see it, but I do. Her spirit is restless like a growing fire. See to it that it does not become her undoing."

"As you wish."

With that, the matriarch departed, and only when she left our view did Rasivi raise her head once again.

"Okay, I have one too many questions right about now. Where should I start?"

"She responded to you better than I expected," she quipped. "It's not often I anticipate the worst and it doesn't transpire."

"Forgive my insistence, Rasivi, but I'm still incredibly confused. Why did she say I was old? What's this about your other child? And do we seriously have to stay here for a full year?"

"One at a time, Valithia," she sighed. "Lamforé means 'Masquerade.' We don't live to see our matriarch days by being careless. Killing is a delicate art, my dear, and if done improperly, the consequences are fatal."

"But I—"

"Please," she interrupted. "Allow me to finish. The Lamforé consists of more than just killing. It's a way of life; a set of rules dictating our behavior, ensuring our survival. And Omega is the perfect place for you to learn these rules completely.

"While I don't enjoy the idea of entertaining this station for an entire year, it's an adequate amount of time for me to familiarize you with the basics. And the matriarch's word is final. This isn't debatable."

"Obey or die?" I questioned. "Is that what the 'Conturlina' is about?"

"That narrow perspective won't grant you many years, Valithia."

"Tch. If it's so complicated, I'm a smart girl. Explain it to me."

"This isn't the place for me to give you the entire introduction. And I don't want someone walking in on this conversation. We need to go to my apartment here," she finished as she began to walk away.

"Wait! Can you at least tell me about this 'other child'? What does she have to do with this?"

Her back still facing me, she replied, "You'll learn momentarily. She'll arrive soon and gladly answer your questions. For now, though, we need to leave."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: <strong>I know this is shorter than the other chapters. Next one should have more words.


	7. Chapter 5

It went without saying I could not walk away from the decision I made. And while I temporarily suspended this belief, I was certain Rasivi would have killed me had I refused. After all, deception was only one of many talents she possessed. In retrospect, I believe she only wanted to give me the illusion I had a choice in the matter, so I'd be more receptive to this new life she granted.

She may as well have killed me that day during the assassination, for I was now at her mercy. At the time, the thought specifically didn't cross my mind. But I could not deny this lingering, upset feeling I carried. Doubts. Suspicions. Disbelief. The voice that would have commanded I leave her was all too quiet. And why? Because I wanted to believe in something no sane mind could ever accept. I wanted to believe Rasivi could make me more than I was.

Was it her influence, or merely my desperation? To this day, I do not know. I even wonder if I truly should have died that day. It may not have been the most respectful life, but at least I would have left with my pride, whatever that was worth to me. Yet there I was, _asking_ for someone to provide, where I should have found another way that kept my independence. If it was to be regained one day, it would be far from an easy task.

I would learn, however, that no one truly decides to become an ardat-yakshi, with or without the Sendulian. Your maker is the one who wields such power of choice. Though, they're careful not to choose someone who is too resistant, lest they have to kill them in the end.

Latent potential. Greed. Desperation. Gullibility. A few ingredients for the recipe of a prime candidate. Which of these did Rasivi see the most in me? Which did _I _see the most of?

Up until my meeting with the matriarch, I still didn't truly know what an ardat-yakshi was. I had yet to see its true nature in anyone, nor had I fully experienced it myself. The time I would spend on Omega would fix that. That much, I knew.

On that night, I was to meet my "sister," is the term we use. We were to meet for no other purpose than all children should know those who share makers. We had to see one another with our own eyes.

We arrived at Rasivi's apartment and waited for my sister's arrival. The place was large enough to accommodate 2-3 people. It seemed virtually untouched for quite some time. Only a few chairs and a couch. There was no food, nor any pictures or signs someone specific lived there. All indicating she must not have frequented the place.

Across from the couch was a very large window, showing the fellow apartment complexes. Not exactly an ideal scenery, as hardly anything in Omega's architecture was designed for aesthetic appeal.

I sat on the couch in the living room, while Rasivi was in a chair in the kitchen behind me. She told me to withhold my questions until my sister's arrival. For when she did, I would certainly have far more. On that, she wasn't wrong.

Not long after, there was a knock on the door, and Rasivi went to answer. Looking over my shoulder, I saw the door part, but couldn't see anyone past Rasivi.

After a few seconds of her indistinct chatter, she waved her arm towards me, as I heard footsteps approaching.

I think I felt my jaw drop as I saw my sister. She sat on the couch one seat away from me, and I couldn't take my eyes off her.

"Neiyeva," she introduced.

Neiyeva was only a child, not even a teenager yet. She had clear blue skin, resembling the shade of the sky. Her lithois marks were an incredibly dark blue that traced back past her large, angled cheeks that granted her such a huge smile. She also had a pair of the markings above her eyes. Her large, vibrant, watchful eyes.

She was wearing a simple dress with straps revealing her shoulders. It was crimson, and the smooth texture reflected light like glass. But seeing that deep red wrapped around her body, I imagined it to be blood. I imagined it to be something violent. Something... primal, that she was trying to express through that color. It made me uneasy, and it felt even dangerous. And I realized the few times I felt such foreboding in people I had yet to exchange a word with, was with those called ardat-yakshi.

Her legs were closed and she crossed her feet, folding her fingers onto her lap. Her eyes remained fixed on me as she awaited my response. Nothing about her aura even hinted at innocence. And the one persistent question that refused to leave my thoughts was, "What is she?"

Then I immediately remembered what the matriarch asked Rasivi. About me being "so old." That's when I realized what she meant. When a maker chooses her child, it truly _is _a child.

I asked myself why Rasivi could possibly want someone so young to be an ardat-yakshi. But then again, why did she want _me _ to become one? And the clarity began to arise once more. I realized it had nothing to do with Rasivi's wishes, anymore than our staying on Omega. It was about what the Conturlina demanded, and how Rasivi thought she might best fulfill those demands.

It took a few seconds, but I found my voice again, and finally responded, "Valithia. Valithia Naeyovos." I did my best to maintain my composure, despite how strange the events taking place were.

Neiyeva replied first, with a smirk. "Kynura didn't tell you what to expect from me, did she?"

"I thought it better you explain things yourself," Rasivi interjected from the kitchen.

"First, my condolences for having to live under such dreadful conditions. I remember staying here years ago, and it was truly awful."

Her sly smile remained as ever present as her watchful gaze. With each word she spoke, and every second spent in her presence, I became increasingly aware that her appearance was an elaborately crafted deception. Though, her mannerisms did little to mask my suspicions of her personality. I could only guess, at the same time, what she was gathering from mine.

"Was the location your choice, Kynura?" Neiyeva asked, looking over her shoulder.

"Orders from the matriarch."

"I see," she said as she returned her gaze towards me. "No changing it now, then. Nice to meet you, sister."

"Yes... likewise."

"How much has our maker told you about us?"

"Not enough, apparently."

She chuckled. "Then perhaps I should start with myself. Over seven years ago, Kynura chose me to become her child. And I've since been studying the ways of the Conturlina. I know how intimidating it can all be at first, but fret not." She placed her hand atop of mine. "If we didn't learn to rely upon each other, we wouldn't be alive to this day, now, would we?"

"But... why children?"

"Hmm?" Her smile had vanished.

I turned to Rasivi and asked again, "Why does the Conturlina choose children?"

Neiyeva began a soft laugh. "Kynura, how old is she?"

"Less than a week."

"And this is all you've taught her?"

"Better she learn this aspect of ourselves firsthand, don't you agree?"

"I suppose. Valithia, the Conturlina chooses children because it's the most ideal option. For what mind is more prime and receptive, than that of a child? Who better to impart the wisdom of our kind?"

The words "our kind" stood apart the most. She so readily identified with ardat-yakshi.

"Although," she resumed, "choosing someone who has already reached adulthood isn't common practice. Kynura told me you were someone thirsting for power. If that's true, then you two will make an ideal match."

"So... Rasivi extended you the same offer, then?"

"I never mentioned any offer. She chose me. And ever since, I had been living with her, learning from her."

"Are you saying she... kidnapped you?"

"Heh. Nothing quite so mundane as that. I was chosen for the Conturlina. And she chose wisely."

Her smile forged once again, only this time, it beamed with pride. She spoke that last sentence so assuredly. I hesitated to ask myself how she came to believe that. Was it of her own doing, or was she brainwashed by Rasivi somehow?

What summoned the most caution in me, was if I would one day share the same beliefs as her. Would I see myself as only a contributor to the Conturlina?

I wanted to immediately protest. I wanted to demand what kind of group of people would steal children for their own gains. But what was the point? For I already knew the answer, an answer Rasivi never tried to hide.

Ardat-yakshi are killers. They are self-serving and without remorse. I expected some form of line to be drawn on their behavior. But why should they have been any different than what I discovered?

It was then that I realized I made a mistake. But it had yet to be the moment when I would actually regret it.

I stood up and looked at Rasivi. "Rasivi. ..._Kynura_. Exactly what kind of person do you think I am?"

"Why don't _you_ tell me. I can tell you want to."

"This is a habit you and your ilk do? Stealing children and turning them into killers, is that it?"

"_Our_ ilk. The Sendulian isn't refundable, my dear. I told you, you could not walk away from this."

"Yet, my trust was clearly misplaced in you."

"Protesting already, are we? I expected this, but not so soon. This was _your _ choice, remember?"

"A misinformed choice."

"But yours, nonetheless."

"Shut up!" I summoned my strength and hurled her towards the wall, flinging the nearby chairs in the processes.

She slowly rose from the ground, laughing. Laughing, and carrying a sickening smile. The same one she wore when he fought. The smile of a sadist.

"The matriarch was right," she began. "Your spirit _is _like a fire; raging, restless, and dangerous. The perfect qualities for an ardat-yakshi."

"I said, shut up!"

I sent another biotic blast in her direction. But while only raising one hand, she stopped it in its tracks, and redirected it towards the adjacent wall.

"Tch, tch, tch. Oh, my dear, you're a few centuries away from even making me sweat."

And on that remark, I instantly felt my entire body go limp. I commanded my limbs to move, but they refused to respond. I knew this feeling all too well. She had me trapped in stasis.

She slowly approached me, while still wearing that disgusting smile. "This really is my fault. I should have made it much clearer where you stand in all this." Standing directly in front of me, placing her hand on my cheek, "I am your maker, your mother. Your _master_."

My eyes burned into hers, yet, I was unable to move even my face.

"My desires are your motives. My will is your reason to live." Leaning in closer, her head past mine, she whispered, "Do you remember the pain you felt during your rebirth? The _torture_? Well... anytime I want..."

Immediately, the pain I once suffered had resurfaced again. Every nerve practically set aflame. My mind overloaded from the surging pain. All while remaining completely helpless; unable to move even a finger.

"...I can make you relive that torture. You'd be amazed how long a person can endure this pain before their mind finally collapses. So listen, well, my dear." She lifted my chin with her finger. "My job is to make you a faithful servant of the Conturlina. You may grow to detest me. But you will _not_ defy me, else, I can leave you like this for hours."

The stasis field subsided, and I fell to my knees, gasping, and sweating.

With her back to me, she said, "For now, you should rest. Tomorrow, we'll begin your training."

"It'll be exciting," said Neiyeva. She was looking over behind the couch, smiling. "You'll get to consume your first victim."


End file.
